


Strawberry Frappuccino

by IncurablePeppermint



Category: OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes
Genre: Coffee Shops, Cute, F/F, Fluff, It's not a coffee shop au if Drupe canonicaly works at a coffee shop right, One Shot, Shopping, Whirlwind Romance, kink shaming PUck Reverie lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 20:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16145234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncurablePeppermint/pseuds/IncurablePeppermint
Summary: Drupe finds herself planning a photo shoot and spending all her breaks with Shannon after the Boxmore bot starts hanging out at @Cafe.





	Strawberry Frappuccino

“She just like… Walked in. I mean, she’s wearing that gross wig, but she isn’t doing anything to wreck the place.”

“Then just take her order, she’s still a customer.” 

“But, boss, she-” Drupe’s phone call is cut short as her boss hangs up on her. She groans and peeks outside of the supply closet. There’s a short line in front of the register. In the very middle of that line is Shannon and people are acting like it’s no big deal that a Boxmore robot just showed up to @Cafe. Well, whatever. She told Colewort she just had to go into the back to get another vanilla syrup pump for his coffee and she’s been in here long enough. If she hides out much longer she might use up her first break on  _ Shannon _ . No way.

“Sorry about the wait,” Drupe announces as she comes out of the closet, vanilla dispenser in hand, “They were hidden behind the other flavors, took a bit to get to.” She doesn’t need to lie, but making it seem like she’s working harder than she really is sometimes earns her a bigger tip. Especially from people like Colewort who feel like they’re always in the way. Maybe it’s manipulative, but it really  _ is _ a hard job (between standing for hours, listening to Joe Cuppa’s “new” material for the upteenth time, and cleaning burnt on coffee grounds from machines work gets to a girl) and she feels like she deserves a nice tip when she can get it. 

“Oh! It’s no p-problem, Drupe.” Colewort doesn’t make a note about how he ordered a drink without vanilla or how Drupe just plops it down next to the open dispenser that is clearly not yet empty before making his order.

“Here you go, one caffe mocha and an eclair.” He pays with card and then fumbles through his pockets for change to put in the tip jar, obviously nervous. Shannon basically pushes him out of the way when he’s finished. 

“Alright, I want an iced caramel macchiato. Extra syrup,” Shannon more demands than orders. She plays with the tips of her robotic fingers as if she has nails rather than actually look at Drupe as she waits for her drink.

“Right away.” 

So she’s rude. At least she’s not slicing the place up. Hopefully she’ll  _ leave _ with her coffee so no one has to be further exposed to the dirty, ratty Halloween wig on her big metal head. As Drupe pumps caramel into the drink she hears a shrill reminder behind her, “ _ Extra _ syrup.” She gives it a few more pumps with a forced smile and nod. So she’s going on her top ten list of rudest customers, right below Holo-Jane. If her manager has to shake her out of one more existential crisis caused by Jane’s nonsense she’ll put  _ herself _ in the juicer. 

“Here you go, ma’am.”

Shannon looks it over for a moment, then unceremoniously drops some money on the counter. “Cool, keep the change.” Drupe is about to lose her cool when she realizes that the change is more than her hourly wage. She watches in confusion as Shannon takes a seat and sips at her drink. She didn’t even know robots  _ could _ drink, but as long as they tip like this. Well, she can handle Shannon being a bit rude about syrup pumps.

What gets weird is when Shannon is still there by the time the cafe is about to close. She’d nursed the same drink for like, an hour and a half, then tossed it in the garbage and just kept sitting there. Drupe has no idea what she wants, but she knows she wants  _ something _ . Even the most annoying customers who took up tables the longest at least had something with them to do. A pad of paper to write down jokes, a box of POW cards they were organizing, a cell phone. Shannon just sat there, staring out the window or watching other customers or sneaking peeks at the counter.

It was weird the first time, the second time, and the whole week after that when she kept doing it. At least after doing this for awhile she started bringing a phone or magazine with her. Though she never bothered to buy a second drink or a snack or make small talk with anyone. She always tipped way too much to make sense. It was like she didn’t understand money. Maybe she didn’t.

And she only did this when Drupe was working. She’d asked Barista Dog who said she’d never seen Shannon do anything but look inside then turn tail and walk away. So, specifically, she wants something from  _ her _ . And it’s enough to make her consider applying elsewhere. Or it would be if she didn’t keep getting great tips and couldn’t indulge in a free fancy drink on her breaks.

Eventually, though, Shannon doesn’t just leave when Drupe announces that the cafe is closing soon. She just sits there. Waits for the other customers to leave. Walks up to the counter.

“Uh, ma’am… We’re closed.”

“I know that, I heard you! I just want to know who you think you are that you haven’t taken a picture of me yet.”

“You… What?”

“You haven’t taken a picture of me! I’ve been in here for like, weeks, waiting for you to snap a photo of me for your dumb fashion blog.”

Drupe holds in her laugh, barely. Shannon had been coming in here so often, frying her circuits with coffee and caramel,  _ because she wants to be featured on Drupe’s blog _ . That also explains the gross wig. Well, it partially explains it. Nothing can fully explain that pink monstrosity that graces Shannon’s head.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I don’t really take pictures of strangers for my blog, it’s invasive.”

Shannon seems to process the reply, then crosses her arms and turns slightly away, her cheeks darkened. “I just assumed I was so fabulous and beautiful that you wouldn’t be able to resist.” Fabulous? She has lipstick smeared all the way up to her eyes.

But… Honestly that just means she’d make a good fashion project. Teach her proper application, get her to give up that disgusting wig. “Well, I really only let people who I’ve styled myself appear on my blog. Keep up the brand, you know?”

“Oh, I totally understand brand.”

She doesn’t understand brand at all, it is obvious to Drupe by the nervous laugh that follows her confident statement. “So how about you meet up with me tomorrow and let me style you, then I’ll take some pics for the blog.”

“Sure, fine.” Shannon tries to wave it off like she’s doing Drupe a favor, but she’s smiling really wide as she leaves without getting a proper place to meet up or any contact information to facilitate the styling tomorrow. Drupe just goes ahead and gets things settled to close up shop, assuming that if she loiters in the bodega long enough Shannon will show up.

And, sure enough, she does. Drupe swears she's only been leaning against the side of the bodega, phone in hand, for a few moments before she sees Shannon waving at her from across the road. She chose Gar's because it is in the middle of the plaza and sort of forgot that coming too close could get Shannon a beat-down. It's not like the employees have any way to know if Shannin is heading there for fun or ruckus.

“Hey there! So, there's a double coupon sale at Puck Reverie’s Depot-”

“I don't need to bother with  _ sales _ .” Shannon holds up a purse that is just crammed full of loose technos and various knick knacks. “Darrell decided we all needed an allowance to learn ‘ind-e-pen-dance’ and since Boxmore is making a lot of money now…” She doesn't seem to care much about this development either way. Drupe has never seen that many technos at once outside of her register. 

“It's… Still a good place to start. If we start walking now we should get there before the good stuff is gone. Then we'll just do a shopping tour around the rest of The Fence while we're there. The Plaza isn't exactly…”

“Walk? How  _ pedestrian _ . Hold my bag.” Shannon hands over her purse to Drupe. She shoves her arms and legs together and with a few clicking noises transforms herself into a motorcycle. 

“I… Uh, don't know how to drive one of… You,” Drupe says, choosing not to mention how it's a little weird to get a two-wheeled piggyback ride. Especially from some bot she barely knows. 

“Well, yeah. But  _ I'm _ driving.”

Alright, no real excuse. She gets on with a little hesitation and is surprised when a seatbelt straps to her waist. She wasn't exactly expecting extra safety precautions from a Boxmore bot. Even as she starts 'driving’ it's nothing like the speed-demon skating Drupe is used to spotting when Shannon attacks the bodega.

“There's no helmet, but if we wreck or something I'll shapeshift to protect your squishy head.”

“Thanks?”

“Of course! Shannon is nothing if not generous and thoughtful.”

Drupe finds herself smiling. Maybe with Lord Boxman out of the way Shannon can learn to be more heroic. Or at least less troublesome. That will be nice. Maybe she should pick up a POW card to track her progress. Or at least ask Dendy if any changes happen with her collection.

“So, like, what do you think… I should wear? J-just for your blog, I mean.”

“I thought maybe we'd get a couple outfits and do a shoot, space out the posts a little.”

“Oh, really” Shannon quickly coughs, shifting away from her excited tone, “I mean, yeah. That sounds right. You want as much Shannon as you can get on your blog.” She grins wide, though it looks a little funny since her head is currently the headlight of a motorcycle.

“It's nice to get someone else, yeah. It's been me, Gregg, and Red for like… Months. Outside of selfie Saturday, I mean. I think they're getting tired of me adjusting their shirts for photos.”

“Well, it's whatever. I don't mind helping out.”

When they arrive there's a small crowd outside waiting for the store to open. Shannon transforms back into her humanoid self and sets Drupe down on her feet, then takes back her purse. 

Drupe pulls out her phone and switches to a browser tab showing the store's digital sales paper for today. “So, what we're looking for most are patterned joggers. They have some really cute black ones with little flowers, I think they'll match your… uh,” Drupe has to pause to think for a moment. Is the metal her skin-tone or the bit where her face is a different color her skin-tone? Is any of it ‘skin-tone’ when she's metal? “ _ Complexion _ really well.” 

“Jo-ggers,” Shannon repeats, letting the word sit in her mouth. Just as she suspected, Shannon has an interest in fashion but little working knowledge. Or at least little  _ modern _ knowledge, Drupe has spotted her wearing leg warmers that would have been fashionable in the age of Silver Spark. Well, that could change. It might be really fun to teach someone about fashion who actually cares about it just like she does and doesn’t just want a quick makeover in time for an event. 

Drupe is pulled out of a daze quite literally as Shannon takes her hand and walks her into the store, hurrying along behind the other customers who are eager to get at cheap chinkos and jeggings. Her hand is cold but not totally unpleasant to the touch. Drupe doesn’t know why that thought goes through her head.

“Drupe… There’s only pants here.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s the Puck Reverie Depot, so.”

“So…?”

“He doesn’t really  _ do _ shirts.”

Shannon stares at Drupe in disbelief for a moment before dropping her hand to look up ‘Puck Reverie’ on her cell phone. She snorts when she gets a scan of his POW card up. “ _ This guy _ ? Ugh, heroes are so…  _ Cheesy _ .” Drupe can’t help but laugh a little herself. Sure, Puck supposedly couldn’t get shirts on because his halo gets in the way but… Come on. There’s button ups, jackets, a  _ shawl _ . He just wants to show off his fuzzy abs. It  _ is _ totally cheesy.

“Alright, yeah. But it’s not like he designs the clothes, he just wanted a store that catered to his  _ very _ specific needs.”

“He  _ did _ ? That’s even worse!”

“Worse for us taking him seriously, good for us looking for cute pants.”

“Fine, fine. Let’s go find these jogg-ers.”

Drupe holds up a few pairs of pants to Shannon to get a feel for her size, then passes pants to her as she finds pairs she thinks would be cute, including the joggers she looked up on her phone earlier. Outside of a few little musings about how cute, perfect, or totally necessary the clothing she grabs is, she doesn’t talk. She’s in  _ the zone _ . Shannon accepts this, holding a growing pile of items without complaint. Which is wonderful, because Drupe is used to Red asking when they're going to be finished and Gregg nervously fluffing his feathers when people stare at Drupe sorting through sizes at hyper speed. 

She leads Shannon over to the dressing rooms and starts to walk in behind her, then thinks better of it. Even if trying on clothes for Shannon is sort of just like putting pants on over leggings, she might still think of Drupe’s presence as intrusive. “Do you want me to wait outside while you try them on?”

“It's fine, you can come in.” 

Drupe takes a seat on the bench inside the dressing room and hands Shannon the pants pair by pair as she tries them on. They only end up with two pairs for all her effort, partially because she forgot to take into consideration Shannon's metal joints. Unfortunately, many pants meet her torso at a big joint, where they're likely to get snagged. Fortunately one of the pants they do end up with are those joggers Drupe was dead set on before they even entered the store. 

Shannon throws down a random amount of technos when they go to the checkout and Drupe hurriedly tries to organize them before the cashier has to. She has a coupon up on her phone but just pockets it instead of showing it to the cashier given that she’s inadvertently caused a slowdown in the busy line already. Shannon seems not to notice her rushed mending of the situation, though. She stares at her fingers in a now familiar manner, checking her paint for chips.

Drupe waits until they're out of the store to bring it up. “Shannon, you don't just… Throw your many at the cashier.”

“You don't? But  _ you _ always let me do that.”

“I did, but it's… Impolite and makes things take longer.”

“Why?”

“There's no guarantee you put the right amount of money down, first of all. Then they have to gather it all up from the counter so it takes longer to count.”

Shannon huffs and turns her head. “Well, why should  _ I  _ count it out! I'm  _ paying. _ ”

“You don't have to have exact change, I just mean… You don't want to hand over twenty technos when you owe thirty-two?” After Shannon doesn't respond for a while a few things click in Drupe's head. Shannon was  _ made _ a teenager and isn't literally her age, one. Two, she has only had an allowance for as long as Darrel has been in charge of Boxmore at the absolute maximum. And three, Shannon always threw down  _ way _ too much money at @Cafe. In a hushed tone, Drupe asks, “Do you not know how to count technos?”

Shannon is obviously embarrassed and won't look at Drupe. “Well how am I  _ supposed _ to? Daddy never took me shopping and Darrel just gave me Technos and expected me to just…  _ Know! _ And I don't know.” 

Shannon sits down on the ground cross-legged and crosses her arms. She lets her purse and shopping bag fall over beside her. Drupe takes a breath and then sits down next to her and starts taking technos out of her purse. It's a little socially iffy to sort money in a parking lot, but this is a  _ situation,  _ so the faux pas doesn’t matter so much at the moment. She starts organizing the different bills and coins into piles, loudly counting the amount in each pile every time she adds another one. 

Shannon keeps her eyes averted for a moment, then starts watching. Drupe can see her mouthing the numbers out of the corner of her eye. Once everything is counted out she puts it all back in the purse, still loose but at least organized in some way.

Shannon processes for a second, then stands up. She offers Drupe a hand to help her up as well. “I tipped you a lot more than I'm supposed to, didn't I?”

She takes the offered hand and nervously admits, “Well, yeah. You did.”

Shannon laughs and slaps Drupe on the back. A little too roughly, but with more restraint than expected. “You let me do some weird stuff when I paid because of that, huh? Some hero you are.” To be fair, Drupe thought  _ maybe _ Shannon was just showing off or didn't care about her technos. But that was really just a justification for it, she wasn't being the  _ best.  _ “Come on, I need stuff other than pants, yeah?”

“Yeah, you do. Let's go to the Riff Rack.” At least Shannon doesn't seem to care that Drupe was acting a bit unsavory for tips. If anything, it seems like this moral slip-up is making Shannon feel more at ease with Drupe. Like they aren't as separated by the villian/hero division as it would appear.

“There's an  _ Elodie  _ clothing line here? I thought this was like… A grunge-y store?”

“Oh, well it still  _ has _ that. There's just not many heroes that want to cultivate that look so they expanded.”

“Weird.”

Inside the store Shannon is subjected to aesthetic whiplash. The whole place is still decorated to accommodate for ripped jeans and spiked bracelets, but instead of those a huge collection of pink and red clothes with frills and ruffles sits smack dab in the center of the store. “And that's Elodie's collection. Not really your style,” Drupe says, posing it as a question even though she is sure of the answer.

“Well, it’s not for me. But like, you could wear them. Since you're already a strawberry this would just be the whipped cream.” Shannon gives Drupe a shit eating grin as she holds a giant, marshmallow-like skirt up to her. Drupe laughs an ugly laugh, complete with snorts.

“I don't  _ think so. _ ”

“What, I don't get to style you?”

“Not with this you don't, I can see you just thinks it's funny!”

Shannon relents, putting the skirt back on the rack. “I don't get this line at all. I've seen her POW card,  _ she _ doesn't even wear this junk.”

“I know, it's so bad. I was so excited, but then she released the first look at the line and,” Drupe finishes her sentence with a disappointed noise.

This time, even when in  _ the zone _ Drupe manages some banter with Shannon. Which is strange, because she can't even do that with Gregg. But something feels  _ really _ good about this shopping trip. Maybe this is just going to be a bunch of great looks to feature. Plus, having a Boxmore bot as a model? That's some new stuff, it'll probably be a big hit. Maybe it’s exciting that she’s getting to be so friendly with someone who has recently taken a bit of a break from evil doing. Even if that break isn’t self-imposed, perhaps bonding over shopping could tip Shannon over to the good side. That would explain the warm feeling Drupe has.

The rest of their shopping trip is pretty uneventful, but ends up lasting much longer than Drupe had anticipated. Though, to be fair, they have ended up with much more than the few outfits that were the goal at this point. 

Drupe carefully holds Shannon's shopping as she climbs once more onto her motorcycle form. “I get off early Thursday, so there will still be some good light if you want to meet me then for our photoshoot.” 

Shannon buckles Drupe on and gives a nod that causes an oncoming car to swerve and honk. She only laughs, “Headlight, right. But that sounds fine, yeah. I mean I have a full schedule, but I can move things around.” 

Drupe knows she's lying since she has literally made time every day to at least  _ check _ the cafe for Drupe for the past few  _ weeks _ . And when Drupe has been there Shannon has literally spent the whole day just sitting there. She doesn't say anything about that, though. Shannon has turned out to be surprisingly good company and Drupe isn't about to ruin that with a snide comment. “Thanks for making time for me, Shannon.”

“O-of course. I mean, I can't let your blog keep suffering without my beautiful form.”

Drupe notices the green button on the 'engine’ of motorcycle-Shannon flashing, but dismisses it. Probably some kind of alert that she's switched herself into night mode or needs to sharpen her blades.

Instead of just dropping her by The Plaza, as Drupe expects, Shannon takes the time to drive Drupe to her house. While she blades away basically as soon as Drupe has stepped off of her and she has a chance to regain her humanoid form, Drupe spots her watching from behind a tree to make sure Drupe gets inside alright. She feels something warm in her chest. Probably satisfaction because she's keeping a bad bot out of trouble.

Shannon keeps coming to @Cafe and tipping an inordinate amount in the days leading up to their proposed photo shoot. Now, though, she counts out exact change to hand over before beaming with pride and dropping some folded paper technos into the tip cup. She also makes small talk with Drupe and while she usually leaves before Drupe has to close up Drupe has caught her looking at the cafe from behind a car trying to make sure Drupe is safe. She's never needed anyone to watch out for her like this, but it feels nice.

When Shannon inevitably walks up to the counter on Thursday Drupe greets her not with her typical scripted questions but with familiarity. “I get off at three. Think you can hang out that long?”

Shannon grins, “Of course. You need me, I wouldn't just  _ bail. _ ” 

“Thanks, Shannon.”

“Y-Yeah, no problem. I mean, I don’t have anything  _ better _ to do.”

Drupe watches as she takes a seat and flips open a magazine she brought in with her. It’s a new one that she must have went at least a town over to pick up, since only Gar’s sells it nearby. It’s one that Drupe recommended. Drupe smiles as she helps the next customer and finds that it isn’t her usual customer service smile.

Gregg said that she has been getting a dopey look on her face lately. That she’s been staring into space instead of always at her phone. And maybe that’s true. Movies always show bad boys as attractive and she doesn’t see why the same can’t be said of bad girls. Or, instead, why Shannon is considered bad. She does bad things, but she’s a robot with programmed devotion to her shitty dad. 

And what bad things has she done  _ recently _ ? Crimes against fashion, maybe, for wearing that awful wig. But Drupe let her down gently regarding her favorite and grossest costume piece during one of their chats during Drupe’s breaks. Then Shannon came in the next day wearing the same wig, but looking much better, explaining that she had found a tutorial online about washing costume wigs in fabric softener. So, she had paid for her ‘crimes’ in the form of community service. 

But maybe that’s not it. It doesn’t have to be! Even if Drupe feels heat in her cheeks and can only send an internal thank you to her mom for those red flesh genes that keeps her blush from showing up. Even if she waits every day for Shannon to come and buy a macchiato no longer for the exorbitant tips but because she gets to see the cute yellow bot and talk with her on her breaks. Even if she uses all of her breaks on  _ Shannon _ . 

And if her staring off into space is because of _ that _ , well, this is going pretty fast for her. Drupe hasn’t had much in the way of crushes before and even when she has had them they’ve been short and sweet and then passed. But this, and she is willing to admit it is more than likely a crush, does not feel quite the same. It feels more caring and hopeful than the passing interest she is used to. Even now as she pulls change out of the register she can’t stop herself from peeking over at Shannon past her current customer’s shoulder.

Just before three, Shannon comes up to the counter again and Drupe is surprised. She hasn’t come up for a second drink the whole time she’s been coming to @Cafe and sometimes she sits around for a whole shift. “What do you recommend, Drupe? I wanna try something different.”

“Hmm... Well I like to get the sweet lavender cappuccino. It’s a bit of a complex, floral taste.”  
“Alright, I’ll take one of those and another iced caramel macchiato.”

Three drinks, even weirder. Maybe she’s trying to fight down some nervousness she has about her upcoming informal photo shoot with caffeine. If caffeine even effects robots. “Alright, just a moment.” Drupe goes ahead and readies the drinks while Shannon carefully counts out her technos. She takes some pride in being able to get the exact change out, now, which is actually kind of sweet. Unfortunately it takes some time to do that, especially since she so recently learned which technos are worth what and sometimes has to pause to think on it. 

Almost as soon as Drupe has passed the drinks to Shannon and put the cash in the register Barista pup comes up behind her. “Hey, Drupe! I’m here to take over your shift, okay?” Her tail wags. She’s always excited to get started at the counter. 

“Of course. I’ll get out of your way.” Drupe hurriedly logs out of the register account and collects her tips.

“Alright, okay. Have fun!” 

Drupe heads to the back room long enough to hang up her apron and visor and grab her backpack, filled with props and makeup she uses when snapping blog photos. When she steps out she finds Shannon standing close by, bag dangling from her arm and a drink in each hand. She holds one out towards Drupe. “Here, I wanted to treat you today. Make sure you’re awake so you take decent pictures.”

Drupe takes it and smiles warmly. This makes a lot more sense than Shannon trying to drown her circuitry in vanilla syrup. She doesn’t know why she didn’t realize this was the plan. Maybe her head is a little foggy. “Thanks, Shannon. I think I have a good place for our photo shoot. A really natural background.” Shannon nods and takes a sip of her own drink. She doesn’t quite look at Drupe.

“Yeah, alright. Lead the way.”

Drupe heads off in towards the forest at the side of the plaza, careful to avoid getting too close to Gar’s for Shannon’s sake. The walk is quiet. She figures maybe Shannon is just excited about the photoshoot or too busy with her macchiato to keep up the chit-chat that at this point feels natural. Drupe sets her half finished drink down on a rock once they reach the slight clearing next to a pond she has picked out. “Alright, so I’m thinking the black floral pants and the cropped hoodie, first.”

Shannon sets her drink and bag down, then gives a thumbs up. “Alright, watch this.” Drupe is confused at first, assuming Shannon is just going to pull on her clothes. Instead, she laughs, transforms into a ball, and leaps into the bag she set on the ground. It rumbles for a moment before Shannon jumps out of it, wearing the outfit. Drupe claps and chuckles. 

“Wow, what a trick.”

“Your magazines mentioned quick changes. Shannon assumed she should prepare for such.”

“That  _ would _ be really handy on a runway, but you can take your time for this if you want to. I’m not in any rush. Now for your posing.”

Drupe leads Shannon over to the pond and has her squat, then starts making tiny adjustments. Brushes dirt off of her arm, pulls a wrinkle out of the hoodie, makes sure the strings are even. She wasn’t expecting to feel so nervous about this shoot but now that she’s getting so close, touching, it’s a lot. She snaps a few photos in this pose before motioning for Shannon to relax. 

“Alright, can I see your lipstick attachment? I want some more color in the next photo.” Shannon silents switches her hand out for a tube of lipstick on a stick. Drupe isn’t sure why Boxman either built this in or allowed Shannon to switch out a weapon for it, but she thinks a pretty neat. Carefully, Drupe takes Shannon’s arm and applies the lipstick, trying to make sure it’s only on Shannon’s lips instead of all over her face. Unfortunately her hands become shaky as she holds on and she smudges it off to one side. “Oh, sorry just...”

She lets go of Shannon’s arm and purses her lips as she carefully rubs the extra lipstick from the corner of Shannon’s mouth with her thumb. She knows that she holds her hand there too long, but can’t make herself stop. Especially when Shannon switches her lipstick back to a hand and puts it over Drupe’s, holding it in place. She looks into Shannon’s eyes and swears they’re a little more pink than usual.

“I, um... I didn’t mean to mess up your lipstick.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just... This is just like in  _ Point Blonde _ when-”

“They kissed?”

“Yeah.”

She closes her eyes and hopes for the best. She figured out a few days ago that Shannon binges bad, outdated romance movies. They’re on VHS and they’re one of few things Boxman would treat her with. She thinks they’re good. Drupe thinks that they’re at least  _ sweet _ . She tried to watch a few of them, at least, and  _ Point Blonde _ was one of them. A fashion designer ends up smitten by a new, unorthodox model. Who also turns out to be a superhero super spy? It watches like two people wrote two different movies then the director mashed them together.

Drupe comes out of her thoughts and realizes she is in Shannon’s lap. Her arms are around Shannon’s neck and there are cold but comforting robotic arms stretched to wrap around her waist several times, pulling her close. She pulls out of the kiss she finds herself in and opens her eyes. Shannon looks at her and grins, showing her sharp teeth.

“Is this why you took me far from the plaza, Drupe? To seduce me?”

“What? No! I mean... I just thought you’d look good against all the green.”

“Do I?”

“You look great! I mean, uh.”

Drupe buries her head in Shannon’s shoulder, embarrassed. Shannon laughs and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I mean, it’s fine if you did bring me out here for that. I wouldn’t mind.”

“You wouldn’t?” Drupe asks, though her words are muffled in Shannon’s hoodie.

“No, I mean. I don’t blame you. And- Uh...” Shannon pauses for a moment, then rests her chin on Drupe’s head. “I might’ve been planning to do something similar. Soon. I mean... Everyone at Lakewood thinks I can’t be... Uh... Good.” The word ‘good’ sounds like it’s hard for her to get out, “But either you don’t care or you think I can so... I guess you’re not a big loser like everyone else.”

Drupe laughs a little and snuggles into the hoodie a little more. “I think you’re fun to be around. So I guess I don’t care if you’re, like, a  _ little _ bad.”

“Alright... Cool. So are we still doing a photo shoot, or?”


End file.
